Recovering from knee surgery is not fun

I am not a patient person
I don’t like sitting around
and really, being a patient is extremely arduous on one who is not patient–yes, I sense the redundancy in my phraseology. 

Not sure what I was expecting, but 8 days after surgery I was hoping for a bit more than a leg that swells up like a watermelon, that keeps me awake at night, has me wincing when I climb my stairs and at times, makes me cry like a baby. 

The physical torturist, yes, I said torturist, assures me that my progress is going quite well and I am just where I am supposed to be and I should allow myself to rest. 

Ah, that’s the rub–inherently, it was ingrained in us that we were NOT to rest, but remain busy at all times doing something useful. Perhaps, in my aging state of nearly 51, I need to listen to the voices of my husband and doctor rather than the ghosts of my parents telling me to keep busy. 

So, I think I’ll cut myself a little slack and curl up with the book my friend Sheila sent to me–a gift meant for me to savor. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel more like scaling the Himalayas!

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